


Fayth From Sorrow

by VampirePaladin



Category: Final Fantasy X & X-2
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Pre-Canon, Summons & Summoning Meta, Widowed, Worldbuilding, Zanarkand (Final Fantasy X Series), machina war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/pseuds/VampirePaladin
Summary: The day after he got the letter from the Summoner Council.
Relationships: Original Male Character(s) & Original Cat Character(s)
Kudos: 5
Collections: Fic In A Box





	Fayth From Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZScalantian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZScalantian/gifts).



He woke up early like he always did. There was a warmth in the bed next to him. There was a moment of contented bliss as he rolled over and reached his arm out. Instead of finding the familiar body of his husband, his hands brushed against fur.

It was purring.

He opened his eyes to find himself face to face with that stray cat that was always getting into their house. It slowly blinked its green eyes at him before rubbing its head against his face.

For the first time he didn’t try to chase the stray out. Instead he reached out and pet the cat. It moved its head into his touch, with no fear at all.

Of course, it had no fear, his husband was always feeding it.

He didn’t want to get out of bed. He just wanted to stay here, with this cat that he had always cursed about but didn’t actually hate as much as he wanted everyone to think.

After another half hour, he slowly rolled over and got out of bed. He limped to the bathroom. Facing himself in the mirror was a middle-aged man with rapidly greying hair. His eyes were red and there were dark circles under them. He did what he needed to do to get ready for the day.

The cat was waiting for him outside, quick to rub up against his legs.

“I’m not the bleeding heart that kept on feeding you. That stupid…” It hurt to say anymore. Instead he just went to make breakfast. There was some fish that needed to be eaten up. 

The cat got half.

He turned the radio to some random channel and sat down at his desk. His work still needed to be completed despite the war that was going on. Sitting down at his desk, he turned the light on. It illuminated the large sheet of paper. He was working on architectural drawings for the new library that was to be built in the northern part of Zanarkand. Using pencils, erasers, rulers, and protractors, he worked on his drawings, tuning everything out.

As the song on the radio repeatedly asked, “What can I do for you?” the cat jumped on top of the desk and meowed.

“I’ve already fed you. What else do you want? I don’t even like cats,” he weakly protested. He took the cat up in his arms and spun around his chair. Then stopped when he caught sight of the letter he’d received yesterday with the Seal of the Summoner’s Council.

The cat wriggled free of his shaking hands and jumped down to the floor. His vision blurred with tears that he couldn’t hold in. There was no need to reread the letter, its horrible contents were already burnt into his mind. He could live for a thousand years and never forget a single one of those cruel words.

He looked at the drawings he’d been working on. They were all wrong. What was the point if he couldn’t show them to the person that mattered the most? 

In a moment of anger born of sorrow, he rose to his feet and knocked the desk over, showing that he still had strength in his body from his days as an athlete. It was too much for his bad leg, which buckled beneath him, sending him to the floor, painfully hitting his chair on the way down. That too was from his days as an athlete. 

His shoulders shook as he let all of his emotions out, crying onto the floor. The cat sniffed him before laying down next to him, flicking its tail occasionally. It stayed there even as he screamed obscenities about the monsters that lived in Bevelle. Those screams softened into sobs.

“Using your status as a songstress, you could get out of the Summoner draft,” the host said over the radio, cutting through the sobbing.

“Yes,” the female guest agreed, “I could do that. But I want to protect my home and the other Summoners that have died on the front line had just as much worth as myself. I can’t pretend that my life is more valuable than theirs just because I’m popular. They all had friends and family waiting for them to come home.”

A calm came over him as he looked up. Some of his best architectural drawings were framed and hanging on the walls. There was the Blitzball stadium. Over there were apartment buildings. The Summoner College was the one that he was most proud of.

Summon.

He picked himself up and straightened out his clothing. Going to the door he grabbed his cane as he stepped out the door, the cat following him. Together they walked through the city. Somehow, he knew they both had the same destination as they passed people going about their days, not thinking about the war that waged outside the city limits.

They went to the Summoner College and found Yunalesca inside the Grand Hall.

“Lady Yunalesca,” he greeted her. “I’d like to volunteer myself to become a Fayth.”

She looked at him with sad eyes. “Are you sure? This will be an eternity and you will never be able to return to your family.”

“Bevelle already took my family from me. Let me protect other Summoners so that they can return to theirs.”

As if agreeing with him, the cat wound itself back and forth between Yunelesca’s legs.

“Does that go for the cat too?”

He gave a half shrug. “Cat can make up his own mind.”

It was a known fact that while any number of Summoners could be capable of summoning the same Aeon, it could only be called by a single Summoner at a time. They were always talking on the radio about not having enough Aeons to prevent tragedies on the battlefield. Becoming a Fayth for an Aeon was entirely voluntary. You really couldn’t draft a Fayth either as everyone knew you had to give yourself up willingly to become one.

“Follow me,” Yunalesca said as she led him into a private chamber.

It was a simple room. There were cushions to sit on and nothing else. He took one and the cat took the other. Yunalesca sat down in front of them.

“Close your eyes and dream.”

With his eyes closed he could feel something. It was tugging at him, wanting to twist his body into something matching his dreams.

He thought of a great Aeon made of metal, an architectural masterpiece of living metal. Its four large legs and heavy body could shield not just a Summoner, but a building from harm. White wings could close around to provide even more protection. It would use Holy to fight. It would never be very mobile, but it was the ultimate in defense.

“Say your name,” Yunalesca said, though her words were distant, faded.

_”Alexander.”_

**Author's Note:**

> The song on the radio is real Emotion and it was Lenne being interviewed.


End file.
